


Desire blooms, with all the fullness of spring

by tragicallynerdy



Category: UnDeadwood (Web Series)
Genre: F/F, Intimacy, Sexual Content, UnDeadwood Mini-series (Critical Role), introspective fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-22
Updated: 2019-11-22
Packaged: 2021-02-26 19:47:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 554
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21524161
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tragicallynerdy/pseuds/tragicallynerdy
Summary: She shouldn't want her, not like this. Arabella knows this. And yet. And yet.
Relationships: Miriam Landisman/Arabella Whitlock
Comments: 4
Kudos: 53





	Desire blooms, with all the fullness of spring

**Author's Note:**

> Just a short piece about desire.

She shouldn’t want her, not like this. Arabella knows this, knows it as deeply as she knows that women are not supposed to have wants outside a husband and children and a home to keep, as deeply as she knows that would never be enough for her. And yet. _And yet_.

And yet here is Miriam, setting a fire in her belly and a want in her chest that she knows should not be there. But Arabella never was one for following the rules of propriety, or the strict binds of her sex. Too willful, too ambitious, too adventurous to stay and play the dutiful wife. And what does she have at home, but a loveless marriage with a husband who hardly notices her presence? Arabella is grit and determination, striving for knowledge and her own place in the world, and doesn’t fit into the narrow box of womanhood she was placed in at birth. And Miriam, Miriam is lovely, grace personified with firm hands and a clever tongue, beckoning her into her life and her bed. And Arabella wants in a way she never has before. It rises in in her chest with fluttering wings that beat against her ribs and her breastbone like a sparrow seeking flight. It clutches at her throat and brings a flush to her cheeks, and she is helpless in its grasp.

And so when Miriam beckons, Arabella takes her hand, and follows her to her hotel room, and knows that she is not the only one who wants this thing that she should not, who wants and wants and _wants_. And Miriam, with her smiling eyes and dark hair both gleaming in the lamplight, reaches into her ribcage and pulls it free with soft kisses and a delicate touch on her waist. It fills the room with the rustling of parting skirts, and grows to life between their lips and hands, echoed in their bones and hearts and minds. Desire blooms between them with all the fullness of spring, inviting and warm. Her touch makes Arabella feel precious and treasured as spun silk, makes her feel like all her sharp edges are diamonds and made to be admired. Makes her feel like her want is good and right and fitting, in a way she never thought it could be. And Arabella knows with all her being that she will _always_ want this, this softness, this adoration, this sharp need that fills her at the touch (the sight, the thought) of the other woman. So she curls her hand into Miriam’s hair, kisses her deeply, and pulls her close. Draws her into the cradle of her thighs, opens to her fingers, arches into her mouth until she is fit to burst. Wanders her body with exploratory hands in turn, swallows Miriam’s sighs and gasps with greedy ecstasy, delighted in the mirror to her own need.

Arabella always thought wanting would leave her hollow, scraped thin, less for herself and more for someone else; how strange (how good, how _right_ ) that it is the only thing that makes her satisfied, makes her whole. She could stay here forever, here in this dim room with this woman who makes her feel like she is enough. And so Arabella wants, and wants, and _wants_ ; and Miriam gives, and gives, and gives.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Comments and kudos are appreciated!


End file.
